West of Westeros:Part 2-Kingdom Come
by spetznaz86
Summary: An event has shattered the fragile peace between the North and the Six Kingdoms. Jon and Sansa must come together to prepare the defense of the North as a new and ambitious force has arisen to remake Westeros or drag it back to it's bloody past.


West of Westeros:Part 2-Kingdom Come

Samwell Tarly stood over Tyrion in his bedchamber. The Hand of the King sucked in small rapid breaths. His eyes closed enduring unknowable pain. "Wine. I need wine." Tyrion was dreaming or hallucinating. Samwell ran to him and grabbed his flailing arms. "Tyrion, you cannot have any wine. You are incredibly ill. I don't think milk of the poppy will help either. I have stirred an herb recipe that I think will bring your fever down." Suddenly Tyrion's eyes opened and stared at Samwell ravenously. " ' . .better!" He slammed his head onto his pillow. "End it gods. End it I beg of you!" Samwell went to his tray of ingredients. He picked up a small cup of green paste. He took a spoonful and tried to put it in Tyrion's mouth. His eyes closed again, he moved his lips together, the paste smearing all over his face. "This isn't wine." Tyrion tasted in disappointment. Soon after he fell silent, whispering gibberish to himself while he slept. Samwell stood there for some time, wondering what to do next. He knew Tyrion did not have long, but he would do his best to ease Tyrion into death. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Samwell got up, unlocked the door to reveal Bran the Broken and Podrick waiting on the other side. "Your grace! What brings you here?" Podrick pushed Bran in, and gave no answer. Bran turned to Podrick. "Push me closer, Tyrion has something to tell me." Podrick forced the bulky wheelchair as close as he could." Samwell was behind Bran looking concerned at Tyrion. "My Lord Hand, you have some things to discuss with me." Tyrion's eyes slowly opened, he shivered as he turned his face to meet Bran. "My King, I'm feeling a little under the weather. Please forgive me." Bran smiled at him. "I already have." Tyrion's face soured as he tried to form words. "I knew this arrangement was doomed to fail. We united the Kingdom only to see it fall once our watch faded." Bran stared at Tyrion. "My watch has never faded. My future was given to me. The Kingdom's future, has not." Tyrion's face grew grim. "You will not honor your Hand's final wish?" Bran drew a frown, almost a speck of anger. "You wish many things Tyrion. Tell me which one you want the most." Tyrion coughed, his breaths slowing. "Sansa was my wife. She never loved me, but that never stopped me from trying to protect her. You said I needed to right my wrongs my King. This is one of them." Bran stared at Tyrion. "Say it." Tyrion closed his eyes, panting. "I ask my King, Brandon the Broken to pardon Jon Snow also known as Aegon Targaryen for the murder of Daenerys Targaryen." Bran folded his hands and rested them. "In doing this you have put us in danger, the Kingdom in danger. Do you still wish this of me?" Tyrion smiled. "If we must destroy the Seven Kingdoms to save it, so be it." Podrick started to pull Bran back. "So be it Tyrion Lannister. You have done a great service to the realm. I hope now that you find peace in your final rest." Bran exited. Samwell went to Tyrion, coughing and panting. "I go to my grave a good man Samwell. The only thing I could ask for." Samwell smiled. Tyrion's eyes opened in a moment of fear, his breathing increased then slowed as his eyes glazed over. In his final moment Tyrion Lannister died with a smile on his face. Samwell knelt down and closed his eyes.

Jon Snow stood atop the Wall looking down into the Haunted Forest. The days were warmer, the wall weeped as the snowless conifers danced in the brisk spring breese. He stood alone, it was his private place to think. He would imagine the ghosts of Grenn and Pyp joking and laughing. He would imagine Edd grumbling, and chewing on dried meat. He would think of Winterfell, the only time he felt warm away from the fires of Castle Black. Sansa arguing with him about petty things. "She taught me the way of the world." He thought to himself. "Oaths mean nothing. Love means everything." He could hear someone being pulled up to the top. "These men." He thought to himself. "No one followed orders last time I was here. Why should they now?" A man appeared in the lift in crow's uniform. It was Gannon Tymber his steward, a grim northern look on his face. "Lord Commander, a raven came from Winterfell." Jon let out a long sigh. "What does my sister want now?" He grabbed the scroll. Gannon stood there looking out past the wall. He was a bannerman of Lord Glover who refused the call to the War for the Dawn. His house was one of the few survivors only to be condemned to the Wall by Sansa for their betrayal. "Jon Snow you are summoned to the Great Hall at Winterfell. Arrive at soonest possible time. With Love. Sansa Stark Queen of the North." Gannon turned to Jon. "You are leaving again Lord Commander?" Jon threw the scroll on the ice. "This can't be good. Gannon till you return you have the wall." Gannon's eyes lit with excitement. "As you wish Lord Commander." The next day Jon left the gates of Castle Black heading south. Ghost followed close nipping at the horses legs. "Hungry boy? Scout ahead and bring us some dinner." The direwolf yelped in anticipation and darted ahead out of sight. A few hours later Ghost brought back three dead rabbits. Jon dismounted, built a fire and tended to the rabbits. Jon sat in silent contemplation, he nibbled on two skewered rabbits. Ghost crunched and gulped his in two bites. Darkness fell as he came across a lonely holdfast. He entered, and layed on one of the mats covered in his cloak and skins. The cool air blew over him. "The North. The real North blew over him and filled his lungs." He closed his eyes knowing his nightmare would start itself all over again. Dany's eyes staring at him. She looked at him the way his brothers looked when they stabbed him. He holds her till it is over. He holds her in their chambers at Winterfell. He imagines never knowing Aegon Targaryen. If he ever existed at all. Ghost came over and layed next to him. Jon ran his hands through the thick white fur. Ghost's nose poking at Jon's face. He laughed hoarsely. "Get some rest boy. We have a long ride tomorrow."

Jon arrived at Wintertown, which bustled with more activity than he ever seen. The smallfolk ran about paying him no mind. The older folk stared with reverence, others with scowls. He let the shock ware off as he trotted closer to the gates of Winterfell. The guard was an older thick man with a scar and a frown eyed Jon down from a hundred yards away. "Do you have business at Winterfell? Crow?" Jon stared down the guard. "I am Jon Snow, Lord Commander of Castle Black. I have been summoned by Queen Sansa." The guard looked him up and down. "Do you have proof of your summons?" A jolt of embarrassment went into Jon. He threw the scroll on the floor of the wall. How foolish. Jon tried to find the words, but ended defeatedly. "No. I do not." The guard smiled and responded. "Well then you have no business here." "Let him in." A stern command came from behind both of them. Sansa stood in the courtyard, red hair flowing in the spring wind. The guard turned and bowed. "Yes my Queen." The gates rose up. Sansa smiled at Jon. "Our men will lead you to your room. Get clean and fed then you will be summoned to the Great Hall." Jon nodded smiling. "Yes my Queen." She showed no sign of happiness. The grim Northern stoicism flowed in her. He went to his chambers with Ghost. He cleaned, shaved and laid in bed in deserved rest. A few hours later Stark soldiers woke him and escorted him. The Great Hall was busy with the many lords of the Winter Court. They shuffled Jon to the side. There were two handsome men in discussion with Sansa. She peered through them to find Jon. They talked while she stared, then she looked up and thanked them and they exited feigning their wounded pride. "Jon Snow." Sansa's voice tore through the hall, and all conversations were stopped. Jon walked to the center, all the lords eyeing him down. He didn't know what to expect. He knelt. "What do you ask of me my Queen?" Sansa seemed confused. "Your Queen? The men of the Night's Watch take no sides in Westeros. How am I your Queen?" Jon was dumbfounded. "Just a kind gesture your grace. I thought "my Queen" was more befitting my sister." Sansa's ice stare did not waver. "Kneel again Jon Snow." Jon did as commanded. "Jon Snow, as commanded by Brandon the Broken, King of the Six Kingdoms, as witnessed by Queen Sansa Stark, Queen of the North and the Northern Lords are pardoned of the crime of murder of Daenerys Targaryen, and are relieved of your duties as Lord Commander of the Night's Watch by royal decree. Jon shuddered, he felt ice in his heart. He was absolutely blindsided. "That is not all Jon, come closer." Jon came to his feet, inched his way closer reading every look on the Northern lords. His face was flush with conflicting emotions. "Kneel and put Longclaw at my feet." Sansa commanded and Jon obliged. "Jon Snow, as decided by Sansa Stark, Queen of the North I name you Jon Stark of Winterfell. You will forget Jon Snow, you will forget Aegon Targaryen, you will be a Stark of Winterfell whose greatest task above all is to protect the North. Do you accept this task?" Jon stood for a moment. "My Queen, I am speechless and undeserving of forgiveness." Sansa shook her head. "Jon stop. You are a Stark now, there is no denial. You must accept what you always were, a Stark of Winterfell. I hope the debt of my betrayal is paid in full." Jon welled with emotion. "You did not betray me my Queen, but I thank you for all that you have done." Sansa looked around the court. She expected more from the lords, they all sat as dumbfounded as Jon. "Jon, tonite come to my chamber so we can discuss the future." Jon bowed. "Yes my Queen." Jon turned and walked briskly down the hall.

Sansa stood by the fire in her parents old bedchamber. It was late, she started to pace back and forth. She could hear activity, a few doors opening, some quiet commands exchanged then finally a hard knock at her door. "Come in." Jon entered and took in the new extravagance the North was creating. "Come to the fire Jon." He walked closer, she ran and embraced him, her hands clawed at his back like she would never let go. "I like what you have done with the place." They both laughed. "And still a lifetime more to do." Jon smiled at her. "Father would be proud." The compliment hit her hard. "Tyrion is dead." Sansa said flatly. Jon nodded in contemplation. "I saw him at King's Landing, his skin was yellowed, and I could see life slipping away. I also saw our sister." Sansa's eyes grew wide. "Arya? Doing what?" Jon smiled. "Trying to sail West." Sansa shook her head. "She could spend better time with her talents. We could have had the Seven Kingdoms with her help." Jon frowned. "All we need is the North." Sansa turned and stared at the fire. "Jon do you think you all this is to honor you?" Jon stared back, annoyed. "Play games with your bannermen, Sansa. Not me. Speak plainly. Speak true." She turned, cold icy tears running down her cheeks. "I love you Jon." Jon turned away. "You're my sister, Sansa. You're my Queen." She grabbed his arm. "I am not your sister. You loved your Dragon Queen. Why can't you love your true Queen?" Jon pulled away from her. "Every night I put my dagger in her. Every night I try to think what she was trying to tell me in her last moments." Sansa walked over and rested her head on his shoulder. Jon smiled, he was too numb to resist, too accepting of touch he desperately wanted."Every day since the Battle of the Bastards I've tried to find another man that measures up to you. A man as honorable and brave as you. A man that has done more for the North than you. I will never find that man." Jon was overcome by all facets of emotion. He would not deny them this time. He was home, broken things were starting to mend. The world was beginning to make sense. Sansa gritted her teeth. "I don't need you to love me Jon. I need you to protect the North." Jon put his hand on her cheek. "How am I supposed to do that?" She looked down at him. "Do your duty. Marry the Queen. Produce an heir. Protect the North." Jon took a step back. "We don't have to sleep in the same bed. We could only need our bedding night. It doesn't matter Jon. We are in danger." "From who?" Jon looked perplexed. "Jon. Tyrion and Davos are dead. We are running out of friends in the council. War is the only following conclusion." Sansa already decided the most logical outcome. "What does my Queen command?" She turned to him. "I will give you command of our forces. Prepare the defense of the North."

Harrion Ashwood stood in the King's chambers, the two Kings Guard stood behind him. He had never met the King in person, but he knew the rumors, emotionless and mystical, but not threatening. "Harrion step forward." He walked ahead and knelt. "Your grace. Thank you for considering me for such a post." Bran stared, a possible thin smile growing on his lips. "You come most recommended. Do you think you are up to the task?" Harrion grinned nervously. "I am sure whatever things the dwarf did I can do better. Minus the drinking and whoring." The expressions changed on the Kings Guard soldiers. "You are an arrogant man. A calculating man, but a fair man. Do you accept?" Harrion bowed his head low. "I do your grace. I will not fail you." Bran nodded and stared off over his shoulder. Harrion stood awkwardly. "I must take my leave your grace. Much to do." He turned and exited. "Things are in motion." Bran whispered to himself. "What did you say your grace?" Brienne leaned in to hear better. "Nothing. Brienne."

Harrion walked down an old stone step that lead to crashing waves. The Red Keep towered over behind. At the bottom a tiny stone court, where one could watch the waves crash into the rocks looking over Blackwater Bay. Stellarios Sanaris, a Braavosi bureaucrat for the Iron Bank was down on his luck and recruited to come to King's Landing to become the new Master of Whispers. "I hope the first words out of your mouth is thank you." Harrion stopped in his tracks. "That's no way to talk to the Hand of the King." Harrion smiled. "I have good news and bad news." Harrion walked up to join him looking into the sea. "I don't want bad news. I just became Hand today. I couldn't bare something that would disrupt this mood I am in. "Well you're going to hear it anyway." "Jon Snow has been pardoned and made a Stark. Troops are gathering at Winterfell." Harrion put his thumb to his chin. Lost in thought. "They anticipate us to strike first?" "I don't know Harrion, but this could be used to our advantage." "We could let the King know the hostile actions, as well as the problems with the Night's Watch." Harrion shook his head. "It may still not be enough to call the King to action. He's a Stark he will always be loyal." "Can anything be done about it? Stellarios?" "We cannot kill him. I hear he is too valuable." "So what do you suggest." "I can talk to the rest of the small council. A decision will be made, and action will be taken." "When?" "I will let you know when and where." Harrion stood in front of him as he tried to leave. "You think you are the leader in this? I decide when and where things happen." Stellarios sized him up and smiled. "Of course you are. The leader has the target on his back. Whereas I can disappear when things go south." "We meet tomorrow, here. I want unanimous agreement." Stellarios bowed. "It will be done."

Jon sat in his chambers staring down a small roll of paper. He didn't know what to say, or how to put it. "I have been pardoned and released of my duties as Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. My final order is that Gannon Tymber be named acting Lord Commander until such time an election can be held." He rolled up the scroll and handed it off to be flown to Castle Black. "Duty is the death of love. Fitting that my duty is love." Jon thought to himself. He thought of Daenerys, calling to him from some bottomless pit in his heart. Calling from a place he cannot follow. He put his dagger to his throat many times, to his heart others. The pain and agony of life made him wish back to his final moment before he was dead. The release of all worry, anger, responsibility. He wished he could run away, be Jon Snow the bastard with nothing, but the world once again kept him where he needed to be. "What are you brooding about?" Sansa was peering at him through the door. "Nothing. Just finishing up the business of telling the Night's Watch I've abandoned them again." "They don't belong here anyway Jon." Sansa entered trying to find a way to penetrate Jon's malaise. "Are you thinking about her?" Jon looked up at Sansa. "Always." Sansa turned away trying to hide her anger. "She's dead. With her Dothraki husband, burning down the afterlife." She went to him and sat down. "I remember the first time I saw you at the Wall. Finally, someone I can trust. Someone who will watch out for me, but Jon you taught me I can only watch out for myself and the North. I knew I loved you right there and then. I knew it was wrong, this feeling that would never abandon me. Every night waiting for news that you would not come back from Dragonstone. Then you returned with this blonde haired Queen, and shattered my heart to dust. The day you told me you were Aegon Targaryen was the saddest and happiest day of my life. My feelings were valid, but at the cost of losing you to your true love." Jon sat there and sulked. "I think of my mother, when I think of you Jon. She told me love is slow, built stone by stone. It's never made in a day. That is what our love will have to be." She put her hand over Jon and pulled his face to hers. They kissed, sobbing happily not knowing what would happen next. "Stone by Stone." Jon smiled. He rose from his chair. "I must talk to the Northern Commanders." He walked away conflicted, something in the pit of his stomach. He was betraying something, someone. "My duty is love." He thought to himself as he walked to the Winterfell Courtyard.

"The North is fortifying Moat Cailin. The Northern Army masses at Winterfell. What do we do? Nothing?" Harrion addressed the new council, Brandon was aloof half listening. "My King we need to know that you will not hesitate over the fact that your sister and Jon Snow are going to attack. They see the losses of Tyrion and Davos an invite to gain territory in the Riverlands. My King the entire Six Kingdoms could be at stake!" Harrion sold it well. Stellarios sat emotionless, turning to see the expression on the King's face. "What does our Master of Whispers have to say?" " I have no useful intelligence on Queen Sansa, but my analysis is that they are either preparing for an attack from the south or an adventure North. The Riverlands belongs to her kin on her mother's side. They could be receptive to becoming in line with an independent North." "And what is the council's recommendation?" Bran jumped in. Harrion turned to the Master of War Wyllam Sunderland. "We draw their forces towards Moat Cailin by creating the illusion that the Army of the Crown is massing there. We use some Ironborn raiders to attack the Saltspear taking Barrowton. Then we have a second attack on White Harbor, effectively taking out the lifeblood of the North. The Ironborn and the White Harbor invaders will encircle Moat Cailin, capture it then move North in force." Brienne stood to the right of Bran, her face not revealing her conflict. "I swore an oath. To protect and do the King's bidding." She remembered another oath, an oath to the Lady Sansa. Dalton Redwyne sat in his chair arms crossed, deep in thought. "Aren't we being rash? Have we tried any sort of diplomacy? White Harbor and The Bite aren't two day sails to Pentos, the seas are tough, and the Northerners even tougher." Bran stared at Harrion. "It seems there is disagreement in the council. I sent my brother to the Night's Watch Harrion. I did it without as much as a thought otherwise. I didn't hesitate then, and I don't think I shall do now. I cannot anything in these rumors and assumptions to justify war against my family." Harrion stood in reflective thought. "As you wish you grace, but I do suggest we increase our presence near Moat Cailin. They moved the first chess piece, now so shall we." Brandon nodded. " Wyllam Sunderland. You shall take five thousand troops and set up an encampment near Moat Cailin. I do not want to hear of any smallfolk harassed, and any disturbance to my uncle's lands. I will proceed your arrival with a raven explaining our intentions. that will be all council business today." The men stood up as Podrick and Brienne exited with Bran. They wheeled him some length away when Brienne could no longer hold her thoughts. "Pod stop. Your grace." Pod stopped and shared her concerned look. "What is it Brienne?" Bran looked up at her. "Your grace, may I speak freely?" "I don't know how I could stop you." Bran responded trying not to be comical. "Do you really think Sansa wants war against the South?" Bran looked down and thought for a moment. "No, Brienne I don't. We defeated Daenerys, and won the crown, but I fear we will not keep it for long." Brienne looked confused."How so your grace?" "I've seen something. Just flashes. They have only brought mixes of emotions, joy and pain. White snow covering Winterfell, joy and laughter. Then I see myself, alone covered by candlelight. I feel sad, but hopeful. I do not think war is on the horizon, but once again the changing of the season. I fear the return of Summer, the long Summer of the Old Kingdom." Brienne grew nervous. "What shall we do you grace?" "Wait. Take no action. Events will happen whatever our decisions will be."

The members of the New Council stood at the edge of Blackwater Bay the same meeting ground Harrion and Stellarios conspired. Dalton Redwyne stared out into the bay looking over the wrecked ships. "Shall the entire coasts of the Six Kingdoms be like this, littered with the carcasses of ships and bones of men? Have we had enough war?" The council were in quiet discussion when they all turned to Dalton stunned. "War is war. It has no beginning nor end." Harrion tried being pragmatic. "Either way we aren't going to start the war the North will." Dalton charged at the them. "And how do you suppose you do that?" Harrion lashed at Dalton in contained rage. "Stand among the council and be quiet! We will hear no more from you until you give your vote." The council formed a semi circle around Harrion. "The time for Kings is over my lords. We have seen the quest for absolute power. The Dragon Queen wanted to scorch the entire world after she was done with King's Landing the rumors say." "Oi. and the time is now for you to shine? Eh, Ashwood?" Bronn the Master of Coin piped in. "I served the dwarf and after some time he made me a lot of coin. Disorder in the Kingdom is disorder in the flow of coin which in turn is disorder in my pockets." Harrion looked at him disparaged. "All I'm saying is with the King out of the way we can all focus on our _own_ interests, solidify our _own_ power, chart our _own _way. There will be Six Kingdoms, and we will still serve the people, but power must be spread out." Bronn chuckled at Harrion. "Said like the first man to think it. You mean to be the leader of this New Council? You mean to tell us what to do? Aye. You think you're the smartest man in Westeros. That's what the dwarf thought, and look at him, yellow worm food in the ground." Harrion rolled his eyes irritated. "There will be six Grand Counsellors plus the Grand Consul that will be the tie breaker. This small council we occupy will still exist with lower officers, and ambitious prospects that will advise us. This is all nonsense if we don't agree on our next action. "And what is that next action? Also, where is the Grandmaester?" Dalton Redwyne spoke out of turn again. "I am concerned with the Grandmaester's loyalty. We shall find a new one once our Great Council is fulfilled. My Lords I propose we take the Red Keep by force, and ransom the King. Either way the North attacks first, and we have justification for taking back the North, or we install ourselves in a bloodless coup, and rule." "Or we kill the King and kill all the Northerners." Bronn shot back with a smile. Corbus Durrandon stepped forward. "I don't think the people have warmed to the Broken King. I think they will be more receptive to the Wardens taking a more active role in their security and prosperity. "You mean to be the Storm Lord again Durrandon?" Dalton Redwyne japed. "Storm's End held by some bastard son of a drunk. I will speak no further on the matter." Corbus stepped back into the circle. "I can see from this gathering that there is agreement within the council. We want the same thing, power over our own lands. Too much power at the top weighs us all down. I think we all have had our say, now to a vote." The Yea's were overwhelming. The only dissent was from Redwyne who seemed to take it upon himself to be disagreeable. He was digging his own grave, Harrion thought to himself. "There can be no turning back Redwyne." Once the votes were cast Harrion started to exit. "We strike in three days. Not enough time for the King and his allies to react. The City Watch will be instructed to seal off the Red Keep. Wyllam Sunderland I want three hundred loyal knights and soldiers to reinforce us when we take power. "It shall be done Lord Hand." "Not the Hand for much longer." Harrion responded thinly.

Jon stood above the front gate of Winterfell looking out into the vast northland. Cold, hard, and bitter was the life of the northerner, but it put everything into perspective. "A hard life is a good life." He told himself, somewhat believing it. He turned back to the courtyard to see the men training, the cold hard steel ringing. It echoed in his ears, the smell of smoke took him back to King's Landing the innocents, the death and destruction. He felt like he was going to vomit. Jon closed his eyes and started breathing hard, trying to find something to ease his mind. "Are you ok? Jon?" A familiar voice called out. He was losing his footing. Someone grabbed him from behind and sat him down. "Jon what's wrong?" Sansa knelt beside him. "I'm fine. Get me on my feet." She pulled at his arm trying to pull him up but she fell as well. She started laughing. Jon smiled and tried to laugh, but was only able to choke out a few pained grimaces. "Come back inside Jon. We can't let the men see you like this." She lead him back to her bedchamber. She helped him with his armor, laid Longclaw next to the bed. She threw some logs on the fire, and laid next to him. "I haven't heard swords hitting against each other like that in awhile. Not since King's Landing. I got lost in the battle again." Sansa laid her head on his chest putting her arm over him. "I wish I could have seen the Red Keep get destroyed. Maybe I would have bowed to the Dragon Queen after that." Jon attempted a pained smile. "I can't fight anymore." Sansa turned to him. "I don't need you to fight Jon. I need you to command. The North needs your mind not your sword." They laid there for some time quietly. Sansa lifted her head up. "I heard your father Rhaegar could sing. Did you sing songs on top of the Wall?" "Nothing I would dare repeat in front of the Queen of the North." Jon smiled. "All about whores and wildling wenches I'd assume." "Hardy sung about his cat Mumbray. Twoshoes would sing about his straw woman Berda. Tom Jackbruck would sing about killing a Thenn with a half eaten hambone. Everyone had a song about something." Sansa looked at him curiously. "What was your song?" "I didn't sing a song to anyone, but I hummed and thought the words in my head." "What was it?" Jon looked down sullenly. "I sung about my family. What they looked like. What I thought they would be. Father would be training Rickon. Lady Catlin would be smiling everyday that the bastard Jon Snow was gone. Robb would be fighting and riding. Bran would be walking again. Rickon would be a knight. Arya would be Arya." Sansa interjected. "What did you sing of me?" Jon looked up at her and smiled. "I sung that you would be Queen." Sansa leaned down and kissed him. They both felt strange, but would not pull away. "I know you've been broken into a thousand pieces. I know everyone has betrayed you. I just want to put you back together piece by piece. I just want us to breathe one safe breath. One day we will stand where Father and my mother stood looking down at what we built." Suddenly, Jon heard a growl from Ghost who was laying outside the door. A raven pecked at the window, it cawed and pecked until Sansa finally opened it. "This raven has a scroll on it." She took it off and let the bird fly away. She walked to her desk and inspected it. "Queen Sansa. Council discussing your move to Moat Cailin. Massing troops to move North. Bran has visions that his life may be in danger. Brienne of Tarth." "What is it?" Jon sat up in bed. "They found out about Moat Cailin. They are massing an expedition North. Bran thinks his life is in danger." Sansa got up and threw the scroll in the fire. "They intend to ransom Bran against us." Jon jumped out of bed. "We must move South now." Sansa sat back down and thought for a minute. "They want us to move against them. They want us to move South and melt. Jon I don't want you at Moat Cailin." Jon got up putting his armor back on. "Your commander must be with his troops." She got up and helped him with his armor. "Don't be a fool. You'll be running into another cavalry charge." Jon laughed. "Jon the North needs no army. The Neck and the swamp of the crannogmen will chew them up, then the cold will beat them down, then once they crawl to the front the Winterfell walls we will be waiting for them." Jon frowned at her. "I heard many times the Wall could never fall. Yet it did. Sansa, nothing is impossible." She fastened the last buckle on his leather armor and lumped back onto the bed. She felt the gravity of him leaving again. She suddenly feared he would not come back. Jon leaned down to her. "I'm not going to Moat Cailin to fight. I'm going there to make peace." She embraced him and kissed him on the cheek. " I will pray in the godswood everyday for your return." Jon looked down to a tattered piece of cloth under his leather chest plate. He grabbed it and ripped a two foot strip of cloth off and handed it to her. "I will always be with you." He kissed her softly and stared at her. "I love you Sansa." She held the cloth as he walked away waiting for him to shut the door. The door clanked with a loud slam as she started weeping. She waited a few minutes before rushing to the top of the gate. Jon slowly filed out with the rest of the Northmen not looking back. She felt him in her heart, they both felt something beyond their understanding. Sansa wrapped the cloth tightly around her left hand, too tight. The pain of the cloth dampened the pain of him leaving. The gods were too harsh she thought to herself. She felt she had not fully escaped her punishment. The gods were cruel, and they would take her Jon.

Bran sat in his chambers warging silently. Brienne and Pod stood by him at attention. Pod was not used to the standing silence. He glanced and Brienne, she glanced back caustically. "What do you think he's doing?" Pod wished he was in his chambers drinking wine, and scheming to get to a whorehouse. Brienne turned back to attention. "It is not our duty to wonder. It is our duty to serve." She shot a look back at Pod. "Our duty is to protect the King. I knew this post was to much for you. Tyrion has corrupted your mind forever." "Don't forget Bronn." Pod chided back. "Gods. That sellsword. He will be the ruin of us all." Pod looked at the ceiling in remembrance. "He wasn't all bad. Tyrion and him are partly the reason I came into your service." Brienne looked at him thin lipped. "Jaime Lannister is why you came into my service." Pod bowed his head. "I didn't want to mention him." Brienne smiled. "Pod, every moment of life is a mix of the best and worst things. I'd like to remember my Jaime in the best parts of my life." She remembered looking over him after they took him out of the rubble. She felt nothing, an empty void swallowed Jaime Lannister and banished him to some unknown part of her mind. Somewhere in that void was Renly Baratheon as well, swirling in the pain of love and loss. "They are coming." They both looked to Bran staring up at them. "Who are coming?" Brienne unsheathed Oathkeeper. "Harrion and the council. They mean to usurp us." A loud knock at the door. Podrick drew his sword as well. "Who goes there?" Brienne bellowed. "Commander of the City Watch Lekker Thorbray. You are instructed to remain in your chamber until Harrion Ashwood can speak to you." After a few hours they heard a plea to open the door. Harrion Ashwood and a couple knights walked in, and looked at them guiltily. "What is the meaning of this Ashwood?" Brienne asked. "It's not your place to ask such questions Lord Commander." Harrion spat venomously. "What are your demands? Lord Ashwood." Bran asked unsurprised. "Simple. Abdicate the throne to the new Great Council." Bran folded his hands and looked up at him. "And what if we refuse?" Harrion chuckled. "Well of course we will kill you all. Then move North and kill your sister and every northerner we can get our hands on. Then once they are all dead we will occupy the north with more loyal subjects." Harrion turned and began to walk to the exit. "I give you till daylight to make your decision. Once the sun rises I will give the order to move the Army of the Crown north." The door slammed hard. The two knights turned and looked at Bran. "What do we do?" Brienne walked to the door looking for a away to break out from the inside. "I have a plan. At daylight, they will come back and free us." His eyes rolled back and warged in silence. The two stood beside him. "Whatever he's doing he better make it fast."

Jon looked out the high tower on the moat towards the smoke and fires of the Army of the Crown that settled at the edge of the swamp. A dense fog covered the ground that went to the edge of the camp. Jon looked around to the men. They were green and scared, a new generation that had known little of the wars of men only the cold darkness of the war for the dawn. "This fort has held off the south since the beginning of time lads. There is nothing to fear here." The men did not change. He looked out again to see a single rider with a white flag, the fog had cut like a blade the dirt path to the entrance. He unbuckled Longclaw and rested it on a great wood table in the main hall. The men looked at him with amazement. "My Lord you're going unarmed?" A Norther Commander tried to belt out to him as walked briskly by them all. He jumped on his horse and Ghost followed with him. The two met in the middle of the fog. Jon thought of this ground, full of bodies upon bodies, centuries upon centuries. What tales the dead could tell he thought to himself. The man under truce was proud white haired high born. " We do not come here to declare war. We came here to make sure the Six Kingdoms did not have ambitions of invading the North. As you can see I brought no weapons with me." The lord looked Jon Stark up and down. "It doesn't matter Lord Stark. If King Bran the Broken does not abdicate his throne,you will know by the deliver of his head to the Queen of the North. The North will also know the ends of ten thousand sword tips if it does not stand down on its aggressive maneuvers. Stand down and abandon this position, or we will be forced to attack." Jon looked at the ground, surveyed the fog thinking for the right words. "All my life I have fought. All my life I've known killing. Everything I've loved, everyone I've loved has been taken away or has betrayed me. The gods have given me one sliver of happiness, and have come through on my prayers. I will protect this sliver of hope with my life. Your men did not fight the army of the dead, they did see the Dragon Queen my love butcher King's Landing, you did not see her eyes grow wide when my blade stuck in her chest. Your men don't know these things. They don't know not to kill, they don't know the horror. They don't need to know such things. I beg of you, do not do this." The lord nodded and thought for a moment. "I have my orders. After sun up tomorrow there is nothing that can be done." Jon nodded sullenly. The two turned and went back to their camps. Jon went to his bedchamber, and started writing a message for Sansa. "By the time you get this two things would have happened. Bran has abdicated, and I am alive. The Army attacks, and my fate left to the gods. I hope to send another message. Love Jon." He watched the raven peck at some grapes and dead rat then fly off cawing into the cold north wind. He couldn't wait for dawn he decided to get some sleep before taking watch. Ghost jumped up and curled up with Jon. He tried not to think of Sansa, but he couldn't repel her from his mind. The only warm feeling that warmed his cold dead heart. The only thing keeping him going. He must live.

Jon woke to someone slamming on his chamber door. The candles were burnt out, and he couldn't see a thing. "Lord Stark! Lord Stark!" A muffled voice screamed out. "My Lord something is happening!" Jon ran out trying to secure his chest plate. Everything around the moat was on fire. He could hear the scream of panic and death. He looked down to see hundreds of men running not knowing where to go. Then Jon saw it. Out of the darkness he could see the flapping wings of a great beast black as night circling around the fort. Jon adjusted his eyes it was a dragon. "Drogon." He muttered to himself. "Everyone abandon the fort!" The men scrambled he got back to the tower, and looked up as Drogon flew past so close Jon was knocked back from the wind gusts of his wings. "He's heading south."

The night went on without much fanfare in Bran's chamber. Podrick gulped down a skin of wine and fell into a drunken stupor. Brienne stood her watch all night looking at Bran and his grey eyes. She started to notice the black of night start to grey as the dusk approached. She shook Podrick awake, thinking at any moment Harrion's men would come and slaughter them. Podrick held his head, then grabbed his wine jug and went in the corner to piss. He turned to Brienne. "Don't let me forget there's piss in there." Brienne shook her head. "Gods? Why did I make him a knight?" "Bran it is almost daylight. Bran." He would not break from his warg. After some minutes there was activity outside the door. Men talking in normal tone moving about as if there were no coup at all. The voices got louder, and Brienne knew that Harrion was coming for them. "Knock. Knock." They both drew their swords. "I'm coming in alone." Harrion shouted. The door became disbarred and he entered. He took a long look at Bran. "What is he doing?" Brienne turned to Harrion. "He's been doing it all night without rest. I don't know what he is up to." Harrion looked at Bran. "Whatever magic you intend to use it not going to work on me!" Bran briefly came out of his warg. "Lord Harrion I've brought something for you." Suddenly there were screams and shouts of men and women. Harrion could not decipher what they were saying. A knight ran into the room in total desperate fear. "It's back! It's here!" Harrion ran to the man. "What in seven hells are you talking about?" The knight looked at him, the smell of piss rising. "The ddd ddd dragon. The one they call Drogon, the Dragon Queen's mount." Harrion turned to Bran. "That's not possible!" Bran unwarged again. "Harrion if I lose control of Drogon he will destroy the city. I can take him back out to sea if we can come to an agreement." Harrion scoffed at him. "Ha, I will never negotiate with you." Bran frowned at him. "Harrion I will make sure Drogon snaps you in half before he burns you for his meal." He unwarged for a few minutes. "King's Landing. It won't last very long with the Dragon unchained." Harrion could hear the roar of the beast as it flew over their chamber. "Ok. Ok. what is your proposal?" Bran somehow stayed within himself and Drogon as he warged. "I will surrender the throne. Samwell and I will take residence at the Citadel. A place consisting only of the past seems the best place for me away from those thirsting for power. The North will not be harassed any longer. You and Jon Stark will broker a peace. Those are my terms." Harrion thought hard. "Once the papers are signed that dragon must be destroyed or never to set foot on Westeros under your control." Bran smiled at him. "That I can promise, but that may not keep the dragon from returning. I don't think I could kill the beast without harming myself." Harrion put his hand over his head. "Just get it out of here as soon as possible. I will send a raven to Jon Stark for a peace deal in the dragonpit."

A fortnight later Jon approached with his Northman contingent to the dragon pit. The new Great Council sat in their seats while their admirers and sycophants gawked and whispered. Harrion Ashwood the Great Councillor sat in the middle staring Jon down. He approached and dismounted his horse. In the middle of the dragonpit was a table with documents on it. Ashwood and Jon both approached the table slowly. Jon stared Ashwood down. "You're in charge?" Harrion looked back annoyed. "Yes, this is the new Great Council free from the singular rule of a King. I want to chart a new course for Westeros away from singular tyrants…" "Save your pretty words for someone else." Jon interjected. "Northmen." The only word Harrion could muster. Jon read over the document for some time, and found it satisfactory. " We sign this with ink. I think we should also stamp it in blood. Harrion smiled and agreed. Jon signed first then Harrion. They both drew their daggers and cut their thumbs bleeding into a thimble. They poured the blood in two spots and stamped it with their sigils. Then they both shook hands. "I wish you good fortune. I'm glad this was solved with little bloodshed." Jon stated truthfully. "I am glad as well. I hope one day there will be friendlier encounters with the North." Jon smiled. "Don't count on it." The two turned and the groups exited. Jon's caravan moved out the trail back to the King's Road two figures in armor waited for them at the end of tree cover. The caravan passed them till Jon Stark reached them. " Ser Brienne of Tarth?" Jon looked at the two perplexed. "My Lord there is no place for us now. I pledged service to Queen Sansa. I want to fulfill that pledge." Jon looked at them thinking for a moment. Find some horses and catch up to the rear, my Queen will be most pleased to have you back in Winterfell." Brienne smiled. "I as well my Lord."

The Northman army reached the gates of Winterfell. A light snow covered Wintertown, and the bustling and activity Jon encountered not a month ago was gone. A fever of worry overcame him. Had Winterfell been sacked while he was gone? He started to wonder. They approached the gate, a single guard looked at them ominously. They entered to find the courtyard full of starving men, they were in Night's Watch cloaks. Jon searched for Gannon. He dismounted and headed for the Great Hall. The Hall was full of the Northern Lords, the Hall was silent so silent the dead could be heard whispering. Jon scanned around to see what was going on. His eyes met with Sansa who was startled by his entrance. Gannon Tymber was kneeling, he turned around his face gaunt and weathered. "What is going on here?" Jon asked worriedly. "The Night's Watch ran out of food. Went ranging and attacked some wilding settlements. Gannon turned to Jon. "I didn't give the command. It was mutiny!" Jon looked down at him. "If it were mutiny then why are you still alive. They didn't leave me alive." Gannon's eyes grew wide. "I never became Lord Commander, they laughed your scroll off. Some flea bottom rat named Porgy the Younger declared himself Lord Commander and went beyond the wall raping and burning." Jon's eyes went to Sansa. "I condemned him traitor once. Will I condemn him liar as well?" Sansa looked to Jon for an answer. "He's a good man. Round up the conspirators. Get word to Tormund, he will deal with the traitors." Sansa looked down to Gannon. "I've grown tired of the Night's Watch so it shall be no more. All Northmen with oaths to the Night's Watch are rescinded. All other innocent crows can either go back south or if you have a trade or other use have a place in the North." Gannon bowed his head. "I thank my Queen for her mercy." Sansa stared at him coldly. "Gannon Tymber I charge you with rounding up the Night's Watch traitors, and dealing out the Queen's justice. We shall deliver the heads to Tormund Giantsbane." Gannon smiled. "It shall be done my Queen." Sansa stood and addressed the Lords. "That is all. Northern business is done for today. Jon come with me."

The Stark bedchamber door slammed shut. They both embraced.

"I thought you were never coming back. I stood outside everyday waiting for you." They kissed slowly, warmed by subtle tears. "We can look down at what we have built." Jon said to her smiling. Jon got on one knee. "Duty is the death of love, but love is my duty. I am ready to protect the North."

The White Wedding

The festival began at dusk. The Northern Lords gathered in the gods wood, torches lit the white bark as light danced off the red heart tree leaves. Sansa and Brienne stood at the base of the weirwood. The Northern Lords and guests turned to watch Jon Stark walk the path to them holding a torch. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. She seemed scared, but putting on a brave face. He reached them halted and settled his torch to the ground. Brienne looked to Jon. "Who comes before the Old Gods this night?" Jon kneeled. "Jon of House Stark comes here to ask the blessing of the gods and to be wed." Brienne turned to Sansa. "Who comes to claim this man?" Sansa smiled and stepped forward. "I do. Sansa of House Stark trueborn to Ned and Catelyn Stark. Queen of the North." Brienne looked back to Sansa tearfully. "Do you take this man?" Sansa looked down to Jon. "I do." The Northern Lords cheered seven loud cheers for the two then began to file back to the great hall to drink and to celebrate. Jon and Sansa looked to the lords leaving but two figures did not move, they were obscured by darkness and the mass of men exiting. They did not leave their embrace. Brienne and Pod walked off join the tail end of the crowd. "I thought you said you weren't a Stark." Jon and Sansa turned to see Arya with a small bulge wrapped in a scarf around her chest. "Arya? What are you doing here?" Gendry and Jaide stepped forward as well. Gendry bowed and motioned Jaide to bow as well. "I didn't mean to come back, but something compelled me to. Jon and Sansa approached Arya looking into the contents of the scarf to reveal a child. The two started sobbing joyfully. Jon went to Gendry and hugged him. Sansa looked down at the child. "His name is Sandor. My purpose now is to train these two warriors." "She's teaching me to be a water dancer!" Jaide almost screamed. Jon looked at Sandor. "Is he a Storm?" Arya shot a wolf growl. "Yes he is." Jon smiled. "Bastards can rise high in this new world." Arya looked back to Gendry. "I hope he will wield a hammer like his father." Gendry didn't know what to do. He just put his arms around Arya and Jaide. Gendry went to Jon. "It's your wedding night why are you standing talking to us?" The two held hands and walked quietly off into the night, Ghost coming out of the shadows to follow them. Gendry leaned and kissed an unsuspecting Arya. "We fell in love here once." Gendry smiled. "You did." Arya wounded him with a grin. "Worst proposal ever." Gendry looked at Jaide. "The Lord of Storm's End gets no respect anywhere!" Arya went to Jaide. "Let's put Sandor to bed then we can train while your father pretends to be interested." She put Sandor in Jaide's arms. She sauntered over to Gendry. "I know I bash you like your hammer on steel." She leaned up for a kiss. "Later, in the forge. Make me something. I'll pay anything." He kissed her. "Yes m'lady." She gave him a quick slap to the cheek and smiled. The weirwood tree watched over them, licks of flame dancing around it's carved face.


End file.
